


Ahtohallan

by Dreamystory



Category: Frozen (Disney Movies), His Dark Materials (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Ahtohallan River (Disney), Angst, Brother-Sister Relationships, Brotherly Bonding, Fights, Hypothermia, Lullabies, Parallels, Sisters, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:29:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27180443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamystory/pseuds/Dreamystory
Summary: The fifth spirit is back, Arendelle is safe and Elsa is happy, living in the Enchanted forest as protector.But the return of an old enemy and the connection with another people will be a new alliance.
Kudos: 3





	1. Prologue

Svalbard was dying.

It was certainly not something that could be dealt with so easily, especially when your home is disintegrating before your eyes and you can do nothing but watch it disappear ... sink into the deep and cold blue of the cold sea from which the island had always protected them to disappear into the depths of the abyss and be forgotten by anyone and seen as just a legend by anyone who sailed in those waters by now constantly stormy. Anxiety, a human feeling that sounded unfamiliar in his large white chest, consumed him from within with every step, every little breath, every time his dark eyes turned away to see a sign of rebirth, a sign that it wasn't the strong wind that had blown away the snow and the anomalous heat that had melted the rest and now ruffled his fur.

The king of the _Panserbjørn_ , their proud king, had ventured further, leaving his trusty right arm in charge for a while ... he knew where he was going, but had turned several times to make sure he wasn't being followed. The place he was going was for the few, and only for the strong of heart. On several occasions Iorek Byrnison had shown that he was brave, sometimes more than he should and in his youth in a very reckless way that had calmed down only by entering adulthood. Perhaps becoming King had helped to calm this side of his character, the realization he had when he killed Iofur Raknison and took back his throne, and from reckless and grumpy he had become strong, stable, placated in certain situations but an impeccable warrior in others. Svalbard was never the same since the forest south of Svalbard was shrouded in something like a ... thick fog.

Visitors from the south said it was so thick that it could not be crossed in any way. Iorek did not believe in magic, being a skeptic by nature he strongly doubted that it was anything magical. He knew what magic was, he knew where he was going and its magical properties. That was the only kind of magic he believed in.

Was it hypocrisy? Maybe.

Iorek knew that by going to what the local tribes called Ahtohallan, the glacier of memories, he was truly being a hypocrite after a lifetime of denying magic. But his people, his house suffered like never before ... what other choice did he have? Nothing had worked. Addressing the spirits was his last chance to try to stop what was happening to his land. _Ahtohallan_ was his last chance, and if he didn't go there, the end would come for Svalbard. 

* * *

Thepath had been long, winding, different from when his father had brought him there when he was little. Walking on the ground, no matter how tireless he was, became difficult due to the absence of snow. But Iorek did not give up and advanced. He advanced, and advanced to exhaustion until the entrance of Ahtohallan overlooked the landscape of Svalbard with all the majesty of the light of the cold ice. Finally feeling the ice beneath him was reassuring but in a way it increased the despair in memory of the times when Svalbard was teeming with ice.

Useless.

Iorek felt useless. "Spirits, great Spirits." He murmured, bowing his head until his big wet nose touched the ground "Please, I beg you ... my land is dying and I ... I don't know what to do anymore." If he could, if he had the ability, Iorek would have cried ... but he didn't, the panserbjørn didn't cry. There was no Panserbjørn who had ever cried, they manifested their emotions differently ... but if Iorek could have shed bitter tears for the love of his land, his homeland abandoned for so long under a despicable deception. "I need a sign." And with these words the fatigue got the better. An anomalous tiredness, but which led him to collapse in front of Ahtohallan's door. Above the ice he could see his image ... yes a King, but at that moment he only saw a bear. An ordinary bear, not the son of one of Svalbard's greatest kings ... it didn't even look like blood of his own blood. A wandering bear. A lost bear, a bear that begs entities without even a foundation.

"I need you."

And with this last whisper he bent down completely, devastated by what his land was becoming. As if he were about to die with it, abandoning himself between the walls of that sacred place. Iorek did not know if time was passing, he had no certainty at that moment. The only one was the fact that that ice had been untouched by the devastation of Svalbard, by everything the island was facing.

 _a voice_.

Iorek raised his head, looking around like a lost cub, separated from its mother too soon. He knew he heard a voice,clear and crystalline. He hadn't imagined it ...

He was sure

"Who is there?" the voice again, this time even more clearly. That vocal bounced off Ahtohallan's walls ... with a power that made the hair stand on his back.

What it was? It was calling him to it, whatever it was.

He got up and walked, entering the heart of the glacier of memories observing its walls as ancient as time "who are you? What do you want?" Asking 'what do you want?' to a spirit who wants to help you, nice move ...

But a little curiosity was audited ... or not?

All Iorek knew was that the temperature was getting lower and lower, and it kept dropping until an icy wind mixed with his voice. Anger assailed him like thunder in a lightning storm ... that the spirits had misled him? Could be? He wondered as he was flapped by a wind that was beyond anything he had ever experienced " _Get it over with_!" he roared, trying to wriggle at that current. Hold on, shake it off. It didn't take much for him to release all the repressed anger and frustration caused by immeasurable stress. The king of Svalbard shook as if trying to wipe the water from his fur, with such violence that he felt like he was going to tear his ears out in the attempt, and this time he roared hoarsely, wearily, angry and directed at the maddening wind.

As if two currents of air had collided, a roar filled Ahtohallan from the center to the foundations as soon as the roar came out of the mouth of the King of Svalbard, as if the wind were intimidated by those long fangs and that rough and primitive power , but very angry. The wind stopped, and everything taque. Iorek kept his eyes fixed on his paws in an insistent way as if he didn't want to see anymore.

Was coming there a mistake? Maybe I had to change island?

" _Iorek Byrnison_."

Who? Who had called his name?

" _Look at me_."

Iorek raised his head and a scarred face fixed inside his eyes

" _rejoice, O King of Svalbard._ " He said

" _The fifth Spirit is returning."_

The ... fifth Spirit. The same fifth spirit that was gone. The first bear on Svalbard spoke in a thunderous voice as old as ice just before disappearing into the glacier's this, acient air. His body dissolved into a clear cloud, luminous snow particles that, exactly as they arrived, went off into the depths of Ahtohallan.

Too far for him. Iorek repeated it before his legs could even move to try to chase him ...

If he continued, he would face certain death from a lost cause.

No one had ever entered the deepest depths of that place and had come out to tell it ...

the lullaby that went hand in hand with the legend spoke clearly " _not too far, or you'll be drowned_." and as much as he hated the frivolity of lullabies, that one was particularly suggestive : A river that contains every memory, every moment ... that rewards those willing to leave behind what they love to reach it. At that point it's up to you not to go too far, because then the river will have no mercy on you. He remembered the times when his mother told him this legend in the den. Back when Iorek was little, Ahtohallan was accessible to a certain extent ...

And Iorek Byrnison chose to believe, for once.


	2. Chapter 2

Ahtohallan was silent that day.

A kind of silence that could have been normal by the glacier's standards, but also because of its majesty, that silence would have seemed destabilizing to others.

In the eyes of those who had never seen it from the inside in all its glory ... therefore not in the eyes of Elsa or the Nøkk.

But quieter than usual, of the enchanted forest, of Arendelle itself.

Quiet only as the first time the former Queen of Arendelle had arrived there after a hard battle with the Nökk, the water spirit who had become her steed after a while and who had become indispensable for her for long rides in the clear of moon or daylight.

Life in the enchanted forest? It was different from the comfort, the luxurious carpets, the paintings and life in general in the palace with its formal dresses, tight hair and decidedly uncomfortable crowns. Too high heels, too stiff posture ...

Elsa loved the place where she was born, but The Enchanted Forest was perhaps more her place of origin than Arendelle herself.

Her powers came from there.

Her Mother was from there.

And as far as he knew, Elsa was home, Arendelle was safe ... the Northuldra were hospitable, serene, a wonderful people in whom thirty-four years ago her Mother had circled with Gale and his multicolored leaves.

Still, Yelana still looked skeptical. Not for Elsa herself, except for the fact that she was not used to living in huts made of reindeer skin despite the fact that she had told her several times not to worry, that she could sleep peacefully anywhere without problems ...

But with Ahtohallan so silent? Well, it was hard to focus when someone (whether it was Honeymaren, Ryder, and company). Not that the glacier particularly liked to converse, but occasionally some whispering was well audible to all but the fifth spirit.

...

Or maybe others too?

Did others also feel his call? maybe there was someone who had heard it long before her? It was a recurrent doubt: A doubt of one evening, when the people had gathered around the fire to tell each other stories and be in company. It was a moment of society, a moment to be together and share moments of life.

Yelena, the leader of the tribe, had dabbled in a story complete with standing up and mysterious hand movements. She was of a certain age, but that certainly didn't stop her from being a woman with a certain spirit.

She led the Northuldra with great passion, courage and loyalty to their land without ever being discouraged about all the years they spent trapped in the weather by a wall of fog. She was a force of nature to be reckoned with, just as was the story she told herself...

Panserbjørne.

That had been the key word of the story, and it had been enough to give the former queen of Arendelle incredible goosebumps who, by gently caressing a reindeer foal resting on her lap, had straightened her back towards Yelena, crystal blue eyes sparkled "... armored bears?"

That was the correct translation of that epithet.

Armored bear.

With large movements of her hands, Yelena told of Ahtohallan and its most recessed, most mysterious and wildest legends "long ago, when the earth was young, the air was clean and the sea gently caressed the shores, the spirits lived in harmony , so much harmony that a glacier formed from it, taking the name of Ahtohallan, the river of memories. It was ancient, wise and immortal, and it contained every answer about the past. Every little bit of life lay deep within it. But only those brave enough to venture out and leave behind everything they love will be rewarded with awareness.

But be careful, because the river will drown anyone who goes too far. "

Elsa had experienced it firsthand.

"but as the millennia went by, negative entities repeatedly disturbed the peace that reigned between the magical and the terrestrial people, causing their division. "

history repeats itself, there is no doubt. The division, albeit shorter, had already existed before.

Before Runeard's betrayal, before the fifth spirit came again, before the mist fell and rose again. Here we were talking about the dawn of time, not thirty or forty years ago.

Centuries.

Middle Ages? No.

We're talking about prehistory.

No one was alive to remember it, no one knew why this legend was made. No one had ever seen Ahtohallan but Elsa, no one had seen its wonders besides her. She, the fifth spirit. "Ahtohallan chose guardians to protect the past, to defend the elements and safeguard their well-being. The first Panserbjørn and all his descendants were considered fit for the arduous task ... for millennia, the Panserbjørne have kept the river of memories safe. from danger until the mist fell on the forest.

And of the great White Bears that were spotted wandering the neighboring islands, or sometimes in the forest itself there was no trace. So much so that years later, we all were amazed to see them reappear and make peace with the spirits, resuming to protect their home. 

But be careful, because a Panserbjørne sees a person's heart as clearly as he sees hands and legs. He will see purity of heart, and will look upon it with eternal protection towards a good heart. To be able to approach one, legend has it that you have to follow the direction of the sea waves, and once there the wind shall guide you."

Yelena had closed the story in a blatant way, bowing her head under the curious and brilliant gaze of Elsa. and just Elsa, white dress fluttering behind her and hair waving over her shoulders that slowly flattened against her back as the Nökk slowed down more and more until it stopped, stooped and allowed her to get off its wide watery back. The point of her flat shoes briefly touched the snow that brushed the water of the Ahtohallan coast, turning to kiss the wet face of the water horse "I'll call you if I need it, go back in the water."

The spirit neighed in assent, giving her a gentle, affectionate nudge with its muzzle before turning and blatantly diving into the water.

"exhibitionist." Elsa commented, shaking her head. and again she was alone with the wind howling between her ears, Ahtohallan in front of her and a legend to dispel.

Armored bears.

Why had Mother never mentioned armored bears in Ahtohallan?

She had talked about rivers that were actually glaciers, memories, drowning and on that false line a lullaby that contained all these warnings in a sweet but suggestive melody that the child herself had listened to with eyes wide open by surprise and by the fact that the voice of the now deceased Queen Iduna was absolutely heavenly: sweet and maternal, warm and drowsy, tender but distant ... all this was an adjective to describe the woman who had generated those two daughters; the elder was the fifth spirit, the younger a Queen of whom all were proud. Anna, sweet Anna ... she would have been the first to want to see an armored bear ... but with the latter's impetuosity and emotion, the scenario would probably have been apocalyptic: Anna bleeding, a couple of bears turned to two ice statues and the harmony of the elements broken again.

No, no. Better not.

If at night the island was adorned with almost psychedelic lights, clear and crystalline on the pure and undisturbed water of the surrounding arctic wind .... Ahtohallan by day shone quite differently. It was a kind of solar magic, warm, no longer miserable but carefree and welcoming even though the snow was still there. That night Elsa had walked straight into Ahtohallan ... so to find what she was looking for and disprove / confirm this legend, she would have to go around the huge glacier.

She wasn't sure about the direction ... I have the impression that here you can really get lost in a glass of water ... And without a compass. Oh, I should have asked for a map or something.

She spent a good minute looking around accompanied only by the rustle of the waves, constant and incessant on the coast behind her as she tried to peek over the glacier, to no avail.

"maybe I should have asked Yelena for more information ..."

yes, probably so considering that the last time you explored alone you froze in the deepest recess of the river of memories, questions like "if I go too far will I freeze again or can I rest easy?" it would have been useful enough to avoid dying a second time. Smoothing nonexistent wrinkles on her very white dress, the former queen of Arendelle snorted lightly "it's make it or break it."

she lifted the hem of her skirt and ventured away from Ahtohallan with her cloak glistening in the sunlight, the contrast between cold and heat.

•••

Elsa had never suffered from the cold. Never, never in the whole of her life, not once, not even a shiver due to the cold, not even a chill. Nothing, nada. (excluding Ahtohallan)And yet, if it was slightly cold inside the glacier, the cold became sharper, even sharper than it had been on the northern mountain years before, by biting into what looked like an island.

Ptf, compared to that cold it was a walk.

At least she didn't risk freezing.

But the hinterland was getting colder, less hospitable and more and more harsh.

Elsa had never seen such an unusually harsh climate in all of her years in Arendelle, or in the previous year in the enchanted forest. Also because it was to the south, and the weather tended to be more pleasant rather than coldly intense as the cold on the island behind Ahtohallan was. A remote corner of her head knew she hadn't seen this place before, when she was first in Ahtohallan.

Well ... let's face it, that day Elsa had had much more to think about instead of exploring and in her defense that night was definitely full of emotions, a roller coaster of emotions ... discovering that she was the fifth spirit, seeing Mother's face after six years, discovering her grandfather's betrayal ... dying and resurrecting ... it wasn't everyday stuff! Although after a lifetime of dealing with anomalous powers, one should get used to it ...

remember why you are here, Elsa!

out of curiosity ...?

NO! To find an armored bear.

One moment.

... Armored bear.

Her, skinny, weak and fifty kilos dressed up, who was going to meet a 700 kilos beast, 2 tons of celestial iron armor, sharp teeth, razor sharp claws, the strength of ten men ...

A question, at this point, seemed legitimate to her exactly when she realized she couldn't go back, when she knew she was too inside the island, too close to these phantom armored creatures, to be able to slack off and return back with the tail between the legs.

And in his head a blatant "ARE YOU INSANE?!" it rang like in a cave, thundering and shrill as the young woman stopped with a sharp movement of her leg and a widening of eyes. How could THIS be a good idea?! In what mind is going directly to look for a beast that could tear you apart without even looking you in the face is a sensible and reasonable idea?!

Oh, tell Anna I made a valiant end ... (or stupid, it depends on your point of view.)

Elsa hugged herself, the kind of hug she would have given herself if she had had her Mother's scarf with her ... but the poor naive obviously hadn't brought it with her, not so much for the cold if not to fight against bad thoughts. 

•••

An intense fog had suddenly descended on the atmosphere on the island ... could she still call it Ahtohallan?

She wasn't sure, just as she wasn't sure she'd never noticed Ahtohallan's back before.

How could she have been so blind?

Ugh! think, Elsa ... Think! 

bah ... risking your life for a stupid myth for the second time? She hadn't learned her lesson, apparently.

As the legend said ...

driven by the wind.

...the wind.

The Wind Spirit!

Maybe It could help her find this infamous creature ...

The Panserbjørne followed the wind.

They didn't know why, the Northuldra ... hell. The Northuldra knew practically nothing about Panserbjørne... yet only Yelena seemed to have been exhaustive, as if somehow she knew something more about some providence donated by chance. Yelena was very mysterious in herself, perhaps more mysterious than the late Iduna.

No, as mentioned.

Iduna had presented another level of mystery to her daughters. The former Queen of Arendelle took a breath, planting her heels firmly in the snow to stabilize herself. It was worth trying: her friend had never refused her help in times of need ... with Its strong gusts it had always managed to give her a hand (a leaf, as you like). She reached a hand to her mouth and let go of a gritty Kulning that reached out from the depths of her chest into the thin air.

The final crack of her voice was lost in the cold air, in the mist, and echoed on something in the distance.

But silence dominated.

Okay, second try.

A second Kulning, and finally an answer… that answer was a gust that fluttered around her, moving her hair from her back to her shoulder. Elsa cocked her neck to one side, the touch of the wind spirit tickling her pale skin "you're quick!" he complimented caressing the air in the direction of the playful spirit "but I need a favor ... take me to Panserbjørne."

and all of a sudden the playfulness of the wind stopped, replaced by a solemn atmosphere and stood still at gaze level with her. As if it were scrutinizing her intentions. She bit her lower lip, looking as it were, at the wind hopefully ... "please?" she tried to ask, needing a concrete answer. ... began to blow again, fumbling around her and then heading forward through the mist and thinning her as she passed between it, in the process Elsa's hair and cloak followed the gust humbly without her blue eyes of her detached from the indicated trajectory. "that's right..."

She gathered her skirt in her hands and followed the trail of leaves lying on the white snow and kept walking ... until a figure blocked the passage.

well ... blocking is a big word.

Let's say that Elsa stopped as soon as the atmosphere was more silent and heavy, and as soon as she felt the presence of her friend go away to enter the fog in front of them.

To tell the truth Elsa didn't notice the figure further on until it was the spirit itself who revealed it ... and when the fog cleared around a massive and muscular body Elsa felt her heart go in instant turmoil with fright. The wind was flying around a decidedly very unhuman face: long and jagged by majestic scars, and a pair of brown eyes looked confused and yet in a certain sense expressionless at the gust of anomalous wind, moving a large black and wet nose to smell it, to capture some essence.

"Hvað ertu að gera hér?" In response to the animal's question to the wind, it spun around his neck in a spiral that confused the animal even more "bieg, er einhver í vandræðum?"

But it was the spirit indeed who brought the animal's gaze back to Elsa.

The woman clearly felt the initial ferocity emanating from that deep gaze: an expression of pure hatred flashed in his eyes, a growl of warning rose in the air in his direction.

Bad idea. Bad idea. BAD IDEA!

Wait ... the Panserbjørne talked! Could she communicate with that creature before... oh, I don't know ... before he took out the fifth spirit and used her dear delicate bones as toothpicks? Elsa hastened to bring her hands in front of her to defend herself from a possible attack.

How the hell do you behave in front of an aggressive animal like the white bear?

It is an unpredictable, aggressive, silent and very very patient beast. To run? nonstarter. To attack? how about no? pretend to be dead? NO! talking to it in a civilized way was the only evaluable option "are you a Panserbjørne?"

"who are you?"

"can you tell me if you are a Panserbjørne?"

"I asked you a question."

and it was not a friendly spite ... that was a tone of pure threat ... to avoid her own demise, Elsa wisely decided to answer "my name is Elsa."

The animal advanced towards her, Elsa instinctively raised her hands and yet slowly ... if from a distance it was big, up close the bear was gigantic. Only his head was huge, she didn't even have to bend down to talk to him. He had broad shoulders and back, a broad chest, a bit like all bears. His walk was trailing yet firm, swaying but majestic and swift. "how did you get through the mist?" his voice was deep. Deep and snarling, menacing, and it gave her shivers.

"there is no more mist, the spirits are at peace again." She hastened to say.

If his face could have looked more austere, intimidating it was just at that moment that that frowning face gave its best "you saw the mist lift." he said. 

"I lifted It." 

The bear stared at her with a cold, detached gaze with those little eyes reduced to doubtful slits.

"you are not from here."

"...No."

"then leave before I change my mind." and having said that he turned and began to walk away "the other bears may not show you mercy. Go away."

Moment of initial terror aside, Elsa was amazed at how that animal had ended the conversation that was anything but friendly in the bud, and how it was walking away to avoid talking to a human.

Think of something, Elsa, don't let him go!

move!

"Ahtohallan!"

... of all the sentences with a complete meaning, this one?

my goodness.

It was stupid, perhaps risky ... but the bear stopped in his footsteps continuing to turn his back to her. Paws firmly planted in the snow and ears turned towards her. "This is not Ahtohallan." Elsa crossed her hands into each other, continuing to observe the bear "but- the glacier-"

"no one can enter it."

"you're wrong, I-"

"Leave."

"Wait, if you would just-"

And at that point, the answer was more abrupt. The animal quickly turned towards her, showing his white fangs angrily in her direction "LEAVE." of all the reactions of the beast, this one frightened her the most due to the suddenness of it and the snarling and angry tone that had been addressed in such a guttural way as to make her skin crawl and stretch her hands to her hips ... and automatically two frozen jets to come out of the palms, purely caused by fright.

And from angry that frowning face changed to ... surprised? confused? he did not show it... he seemed to frown more, if anything, as soon as the ice planted itself firmly in the snow next to the human with a sound of sinking into its density.

Instinctively Elsa put her hands to her chest, closing them on each other with fear full of warning ... her clear eyes wandered on the snow in front of her "I'm so sorry ... sorry ... I could have hurt you-" she stammered, taking a few steps back "i-I ... I entered Ahtohallan ... I am the fifth spirit."

Silence.

A long silence ... sooo long. The longest tense silence experienced in twenty-five years of life. A silence in which Elsa stood still in the dramatic pose she had previously taken, and he with his neck still turned towards her and a look less and less welcoming and more and more hostile towards that foreigner who had just shot ice from her hands. If those eyes had been of a human being, that so little singular color would have been warm, hospitable ... but on that animal it did nothing but give her a cold warning as soon as they crossed hers: "another step and it could be the last. "

"you're just a human." 

perceptive.

Although it was not an insult, Elsa felt a tinge of indignation anyway ... but biting her tongue and letting him finish would have been the correct option for not finding herself in an early interview with the Creator. "I was a Queen, before I was the fifth spirit. Queen of Arendelle."

No response from him, other than a quick glance at the flashes of ice still anchored in the ground next to her, then back to her face ... imperceptibly he approached, yet he kept his head tilted to the side as if ready to snap on the one hand in case Elsa decided to attack him, freeze him in place, freeze his head, his heart ...

it was understandable he didn't trust her, as she was still intimidated and hesitant by his presence.

and then ... he began to approach.

Elsa felt every muscle on her body stiffen as she watched the bear close the distance between them with a few steps ... from a few meters away he was a very large specimen, being an adult male. Close? He was terrifying. A rhythmic and majestic movement of the shoulders accompanied the movement of those muscular limbs with the slow and exonerable trailing paws typical of bears was all that was needed to find himself from a safe distance to being face to face. Or rather, a nose dangerously close to the face of the young woman who at this moment regretted not having read more books about bears before venturing on the heels of one.

Those eyes were even more hostile and deep up close, and the furrows he wore on his nose and climbed up over his right eye, although they were class touches to such a ferocious aspect, must have been downright painful after the battle in which he must have gotten them ... but the sight of that nose venturing to try to pick up some scent about her distracted her from those signs of war, and again she tensed when she felt the animal breathe in and then out on her collarbone again. 

Yhe strong arch of his brows was fixed downward, hiding his suspicious gaze as he breathed noisily again.

Yet not a snarl escaped his throat in the meantime.

And then, slowly, he stopped and his muzzle stopped just above her eyes. He was peering at her, observing each breath more abrupt and so silent than her continuous snort of a breath.

"what's your name?"

"King Iorek Byrnison."

...King?

Did bears also have a monarchy?

Elsa blinked at him, leaving her mouth open "your majesty, I ask your forgiveness: I didn't imagine you were of royal blood too." She said walking away for a brief second. One hem of the dress in one hand, the other in the other hand and she bent her knees lowering her head in a respectful curtsy to which he replied with a curt "lift up." without even looking at her "you are not my subject. You must not bow down." 

Wow ... in Arendelle not bowing would have been a form of disrespect to the monarch in question. As she understood, Svalbard was not as tight and rigid a form of regime as it was in Arendelle. 

He didn't answer, he just looked at her as if he had finished his maximum of words for the day.

"... Ahtohallan is safe now."

And then he, Iorek, made a sound that sounded like a scoff. A very clear pronounced scoff with a hint of 'tsk'.

In short, pure sarcasm. "I don't believe in fairy tales. Not anymore."

She lifted herself up without saying anything else, hands well placed one on top of the other as she peered at him through her lashes, nibbling her lower lip with her incisors.

Very well. Panserbjørn was in front of her. Not exactly open to conversation and definitely not open to any kind of social interaction with Elsa ... but at least she was there. "Hmph. now go."

Elsa felt her heart literally drop in her stomach ... so far the conversation hadn't gone too bad, and now he was refraining from talking to her again. And again he was backing away, his gaze hadn't changed one iota.

Instinctively she reached out to him "please don't go."

His leg was half off the ground, ready to take another step in the opposite direction as a shrimp would (walking backwards to keep an eye on her, keeping her head down "wait! Wait, don't go!"

"in fact, you should be the one to go."

"hey! you're talking to a queen!"

"You are no longer queen, you said so."

ouch. Critical hit, captain. Abandon ship?

anyway, drop the lifeboats.

"I don't know why you think you are the fifth spirit, nor do I care to know." he growled "I won't tell you another time, just get out of my sight." His leg was half off the ground, ready to take another step in the opposite direction as a shrimp would (walking backwards to keep an eye on her, keeping her head down "wait! Wait, don't go!"

"in fact, you should be the one to go."

"hey! you're talking to a queen!"

"You are no longer queen, you said so."

ouch. Critical hit, captain. Abandon ship?

anyway, drop the lifeboats.

"I don't know why you think you are the fifth spirit, nor do I care to know." he growled "I won't tell you another time-"

"the Panserbjørne are Ahtohallan's protectors-"

"not anymore."

stop interrupting! she wanted to scream at him ... but she bit her tongue and instead asked a shy "why not?"

Iorek took a long, noisy breath, lifting her towering chest in the process and all without ever taking his eyes off her "you, fifth spirit, took your time to arrive."

"Beg your pardon?"

Iorek hadn't moved, except for the sharp movement of sinking his paw into the ground with thud softened only slightly by the little snow that had fallen in the meantime

Not Elsa's: Elsa's snowflakes were more glittering, brighter. snow was denser, rough and… natural, not as artificial as a snowflake she made could have been. It was no mystery that it was his own magic that troubled him ... you could see that the great Bear King was starting to get angry, yet it was a kind of anger directed towards the unknown. It certainly wasn't scary. How could such a strong and mighty animal be afraid? "and where were you when my land was dying?"

it was a beautiful and good accusation, and if until then the situation had remained civil enough now it risked escalating with a fit of rage on the part of the animal.

"I ... I didn't know I was the fifth spirit until a year ago. I told you." he tried to say, speaking softly and slowly so as not to trigger a violent reaction. It was amazing how careful she was being.

And it was amazing how much those eyes wanted to tear her apart on the spot and above all what Elsa was risking "but now I'm here and I can help ..."

Iorek snorted in her direction, turning again in a decisive way and this time walking decisively in the opposite way. "I don't do anything with the empty promises of you humans."

and then he roared in a language that Elsa could not understand "Bieg, komdu henni héðan! Nú!"

and before Elsa could say anything else, she found herself hovering in the air and dragged away by the Wind itself.


	3. Chapter 3

The wind had placed her gently on the terrain of Northuldra territory, swiftly carrying her away from Ahtohallan, making her cross the sea in the blink of an eye ... far. Away from Ahtohallan, farther and farther until it laid her down on the snowy ground next to an extinguished hearth late in the afternoon, with her heart racing and her hair ruffled by the wind itself in a hurry to obey whatever order Panserbjørn had given it.

The blonde turned a lost look to the wind "why did you bring me back here?"

it didn't answer, it floated away leaving her there like an idiot talking to the air.

Whatever language it was ... Elsa was confused.

She was very confused.

That Panserbjørn had confused her very, very much ... so much so that as soon as she realized that the village was silent, she got into her tent and pulled out Iduna's shawl: when Elsa had moved to the enchanted forest, the two sisters they were agreed to keep Mum's scarf once and for once ... During the next visit to Arendelle Elsa would take the scarf with her to leave it for Anna and so on. Elsa had brought the ornament that belonged to her Mother with her last Friday, and on the coming Friday she would take it to her sister ... but for now, sitting on a log that served as a bench to sit on, Elsa pulled her shawl around her shoulders, holding it firmly on her chest with one hand and inhaling the soothing and soft scent it still carried with him after so many years of being closed within the walls of the castle ... that scarf could see the open air again. He had seen a Panserbjørn up close.

She had talked to a Panserbjørn. Well, of course, the conversation hadn't gone exactly as good as he imagined.

She had imagined that this great creature would understand that in some way their destinies had to cross and that therefore he would have become her fearless protector, that that scarred muzzle would immediately take a liking to her since the manifestation of her powers was centered on an element that it was part of his home, of his culture.

Yet perhaps that was precisely what had infuriated him.

But not with her magic.

That bear was angry with her, with Ahtohallan and possibly the spirits ...

Although he didn't even know it, nor did the Panserbjørne seem particularly attached to the spirits themselves if not to the spirit of the wind. She was so confused and frustrated: she hadn't known he was the fifth spirit until a year ago, and what could she have done when she wasn't in full control of her powers anyway? freeze Ahtohallan and the island behind it? It would certainly not have been a plausible solution. 

“Dear Anna,  
I hope everything goes well in Arendelle.  
Ahtohallan continues to amaze me more every day with beauties, oddities and anecdotes of all kinds...Mother's lullaby has left some very important passages out of its stanzas. Like the fact that spirits have been in conflict all along, since prehistoric times ... and Ahtohallan has very rare guardians.  
Armored bears are definitely mysterious, only Yelena was able to give me some extra information. So I investigated, and returned to Ahtohallan a few days later to meet one of those phantom creatures ... I had good luck and bad luck together to tell the truth.  
I met one: King Iorek. One of the wildest beasts I've ever seen (no offense to Marshmallow), but the meeting was very tense and he definitely wasn't in the mood to talk to me ... especially since I think he was very resentful. He doesn't think I'm the fifth spirit. But I know I'll meet him again, Gale will take me to him in no time.  
I will keep you updated.  
Say hello Kristoff, Sven, Olaf and Sergeant Matthias from me  
I love you, sister.  
Forever yours, Elsa  
"So, how did it go? "Honeymaren's kind brown eyes now looked at her with a smug light into them, one eyebrow raised with curiosity. A surprise, because Elsa hadn't seen her coming in the slightest, nor had she seen her pull the curtain aside to observe the fifth spirit wrapped in the scarf.

Elsa sighed "Panserbjørne are complicated creatures."

the other woman chuckled, rolling her eyes and shaking her head "They're bears, and therefore they're predators. Predators are stubborn." she said, "Well, you're still alive. It means it didn't go that bad."

Tightening her scarf more around her shoulders Elsa shook her head "oh, trust me Maren ... Iorek seemed very close to tearing me apart ..."

"Iorek?"

"His name. King Iorek- something ..."

Honeymaren hummed another something under her breath before taking a seat next to her, folding her legs to one side and moving long black braid from shoulder to back "hmmm ... he seemed worried, more than angry in my opinion." 

"what do you mean?"

Honeymaren smacked her plump lips with a shrug, looking at the carpet in front of them and then back at her friend "You said he's a King, right?"

Elsa nodded absently. "so?"

"so it's very likely that he acted on instinct to protect his people, maybe he didn't mean to be so brusque. He was just trying to get away from there to defend his kingdom, maybe." Elsa's mind was clouded with all those thoughts for a second until one made its way in a sensational way.

More than a thought, it was a distant memory ... of what seemed like a lifetime ago.

About the day she and Anna met again in Elsa's ice palace ... about how the Queen back then tried to be rude and blunt to get her sister away and safe from ... from herself. And how she herself had caused a blow to her that had caused Anna's temporary death.

But it wasn't so much the fact that he had hurt Anna right now that triggered a realization… if not the fact that she and Iorek had used the same tactic.

Perhaps Iorek had externalized the real reasons for such ferocity towards her through a passive-aggressive outburst of anger, she had internalized in 24 years of life under the imposition of her parents who tried to protect her in good faith but ended up hurting her under each level.

Agnarr and Iduna had loved her, but to say that her parents were faultless and to make them saints was not a true ethics. They wanted to help her, but in doing so they had the wrong approach.

Yet, Elsa knew that her mother's scarf could calm any fear and jealously guarded it with Anna as a unique treasure as well as the only attachment to their deceased parent. "Are you saying we could be ... similar?"

A Northultra raised eyebrow was enough to convey a concept "I'm just saying you shouldn't throw in the towel with him ... your sister didn't do it with you."

The blonde sighed; in that case it was different. Anna knew of Elsa's existence and had a reason for wanting to be close to her ... from a bear's point of view, a human who wants to be so close to you for no apparent reason can be annoying, especially if the human in question came to your kingdom without your consent and especially if you don't even know her. 

"it was different there, Maren. Anna is my sister. But what reason do I have for wanting to get closer to that animal? " 

"...a death wish?"

"HEY!"

"I'm just messing with ya, silly!" the other laughed, patting her on the shoulder in a friendly way "I'm just saying give time to time. The most stormy friendships at the beginning are the ones that last longer."

Elsa's blue eyes rolled up "It will be a looong time before I return to Ahtohallan, trust me ... considering I'm angry with a certain gentleman."

"who, Nøkk?"

"No, Gale." the ex Queen put her nose up with a haughty air, eyebrows curved down and a determined look "after this I won't talk to him anymore."

Honeymaren hid a chuckle behind his fist "come on, what did Gale do to you?"

"the gentleman here dragged me away without my consent after a stranger spoke to him!" and she raised her voice purposefully, leaning forward as if she wanted the spirit of the wind to hear her. "That's no way to treat a former queen! You were abrupt too!" as if Gale cared about his social status.

For him Elsa was simply Elsa. There were no noble titles.

So in case Gale and Iorek already knew each other, Iorek was not a king to him. "Besides, may I know what damn language you were speaking in?"

Honeymaren shrugged "Nobody knows. Panserbjørne have their own language, nobody has ever managed to have a fixed conversation with one of them ..." 

Maybe she was only able to talk to him because she was the fifth spirit ... and being the Panserbjørne related in some way to the spirits, maybe they were able to communicate better.

Wow ... Honeymaren was very introspective.

"Now! Up you go and help me gather the reindeers!" 

•••

"the nerve ... tsk, the audacity. The boldness of showing her face here ... how dare she?!"

Iorek snarled these sentences one after the other, frowning and firmly turned towards the path in front of him. "And Bieg! Why did you bring her here? I know you can hear me, you wretched spirit! Show yourself!" Oh no, the spirit of the wind knew well not to beware of an angry Panserbjørn. The King had been walking for a quarter of an hour, muttering to himself near the frozen lake, a place where he would go to be in peace for a little while before king's duties awaited him.

Important duties, which in a certain sense defined him.

And that one there? That fifth spirit? had he left his kingdom of his own free will?

And did she have the courage to be a good Samaritan woman with him?

Tch, fifth spirit ... that frail, frightened, skinny human wouldn't last half a day alone.

"Elsa. Good, Elsa. Straight into the blacklist-"

"... King Byrnison?"

Iorek stopped short on the short path he had just undertaken (also called walking loop, back and forth on the same path ...), his head snapped straight looking in front of him, but without taking away a dignified and elegant behavior but still with the knowledge that he had made his facade collapse for a moment.

The young bear in front of him was just starting out with the construction of his own armor, and he was one of those young bears that followed him everywhere like little ducklings, observing his every move and taking an example from whatever skill they saw in him. That young bear had two eyes lighter than the rest of them: they were tending to a sky blue that no one had ever seen, and no one knew why that color was so bright in a myriad of black or brown eyes.

Anders Sørenson was an observer. Patient and silent.

he would be a very good predator one day, certainly a cub that many would be proud of.

Iorek let out a snort from his nose directed at the other "what is it, Anders?"

"Am I disturbing you?"

"No. What is it?"

"We are ready for the hunt. Will you join us?"

Right ... the hunt. With all the dump with the story of the fifth spirit and the fact that, despite his return, Svalbard was unable to heal and the unprecedented anger that gripped his chest for this he had forgotten that they had to look for food at all costs despite knowing very well that the reindeer herds were gone, the fish were moving away, the walruses were more aggressive than usual, and the seals had moved away.

The bears would have starved to death at this rate.

and they had cubs in that kingdom.

An adult bear could hunt for itself ... but a growing weaned cub couldn't possibly go fast for that long. The fact that he couldn't provide for those young lives made him mad, but it was a kind of anger driven by a sense of helplessness.

What kind of King was he if he couldn't provide a modicum of survival for his kingdom?

"Go ahead, I'll join you right away."

The young bear gave him an almost frowning look "Your Majesty, are you unwell?"

What sense would it have been to load such a young bear with knowledge he didn't know? None of the younger ones knew the fifth spirit, nor the legend linked to Ahtohallan.

Such ignorance was strictly by order of himself.

He had forbidden access to the glacier or the farthest part of the island long ago out of anger, pure anger towards the spirits. an anger that in his point of view was justified.  
The spirits had completely abandoned them.  
The whole north had blossomed again with snow and peace ... the whole north except Svalbard. All attempts to save the situation had been futile.  
And the King's heart had hardened, from full of passion to literally the point when it felt like a thick layer of ice surrounded It.

"I'm fine. Go on." 

And this assumed apathy reflected on his way of being a good ruler, but of being cold and distant. 

Anders gave the King a doubtful look reflected in those bluish eyes, but nevertheless did not dare to protest. "I wait for you near the peak, Your Majesty-"

"no need, I'm on my way." And with that he got up and reached the younger bear.

The King of Panserbjørne blissfully (or by force, angrily) ignored the Kulning that echoed in his ears.


	4. Chapter 4

"Elsa, focus! We're losing!" Elsa blinked a couple of times in that room on a Friday night. The warmth of the room returned to her senses, as did the crackle of the fire in the fireplace and her sister's decidedly unhappy face, as did the sensation of Anna's hand shaking her shoulder. The former queen of Arendelle gasped: Was she distracted for so long? Damn, girl ... keep your head on your shoulders!

It is useless to specify the importance of the evening of charades on Friday evenings. It was as important as Christmas, as much as the holiday of the summer solstice and the winter equinox. It was of living significance, an unbreakable tradition and as ancient as Ahtohallan itself. Wow, we're poetic today. Anna's turquoise eyes were fixed on her in search of an explanation. The Young Queen of Arendelle was not one to go easy on it (just look at the disaster of her older sister's coronation four years earlier), nor was she one who went straight for her way without giving explanations in any way. If there was something that made her angry, she expressed it clearly and roundly without too many words. Elsa was different, reserved. The fifth spirit ran a hand through his hair, smoothing it and letting it fall on his shoulder in a distracted "sorry." she said, leaning over the edge of the sofa to appear more focused.

"I'm sorry, I'm focused"

"what were you thinking about?"

"Stuff." The fifth spirit cut it short quickly. A week had passed since the meeting with Iorek ...A week and two attempts to return to Ahtohallan promptly blocked by Gale, who with his gusts forcefully ordered her to go back, to stay away from there and leaving behind an altered Elsa. Not even Nøkk seemed, albeit much more kindly, willing to take her this far again. _Bruni_? Bruni didn't even know what a Panserbjørn was ... The giants of Earth had no way of crossing all that sea without sinking too deep and dragging her with them underwater. Each option seemed too, too risky ...

_Oh, that's enough! get it over. You're with your family, think about having fun!_

Anna cracked the knuckles of her hand, a competitive look at Kristoff and a smirk was enough to get her in a good mood "Good! Team Arendelle vs Team Ice!" It worked like this: The ice team were Elsa and Olaf, and the Arendelle team were Anna and Kristoff together with Sven. Elsa was not entirely convinced that Sven was actually acting as a real player, more than anything else he kept the time and gave the start ... but from a technical point of view the Ice Team was at a disadvantage considering their poor skills in the game of mimes (she hadn't been able to mimic 'ice') and the fact that Olaf couldn't change shape. Plus, her sister's competitiveness didn't help at all. Kristoff, next to her, in her emerald nightgown, stretched lazily leaning against the back of the sofa, hands behind his head and a snort left his lips."babe, tomorrow we have to get up early .." The ginger nodded vigorously in his direction, gently taking his arm, bangs bouncing up and down in the movement "ooh, come on! _Five_ minutes!" She said. The future ruler of Arendelle had no way of answering, because immediately his future wife was again focused on the game. Kristoff sighed "Anna. You have the fitting of the wedding dress. _Tomorrow_. Remember?" The preparations for the wedding were going great, from what Elsa could see from once a week ... it made sense think that years before Anna had been very close to getting married at the age of 18 (Ugh. _Hans._ ) and now at the age of twenty-two she was ready to take the plunge, and this time with the right person by her side. It was incredible how much that beautiful woman in front of her was her little sister, that little girl with curious and bright eyes ... The two sisters were three years apart, but Elsa clearly remembered the day she had seen Anna for the first time .

A small, reddened face had welcomed her into the room, wrapped in Iduna's shawl and the first comment of a three-year-old Elsa was "Mama! _Freckles_!" Anna was chock full of freckles: scattered over her nose, arms and shoulders. Anna scoffed, indignant towards her future husband "first we win, _then_ we will think about the dress!" the girl needs to review her priorities. With a smart and fast movement Elsa took the burgundy shawl and wrapped it around her sister's shoulders "rest comes first, we can safely resume the game next Friday-" she suggested, smoothly smoothing the fabric on Anna's shoulders giving her little sister a look moved by the lost look he saw a second later. Anna's turquoise eyes blinked a couple of times in the direction of her sister's soft, calm voice: Elsa had the gift of being able to soothe her with a look, a calmer tone or a smile. Kristoff, who at this moment was breathing a sigh of relief, used to press his lips to Anna's to silence her. The young queen crossed her arms, finally surrendering "okay ... okay ... but you haven't told me anything since your last letter!" and pouted "you owe me another five minutes of play just for this!" Elsa raised an eyebrow with a puzzled air "are you talking about ...?"

"how it ended with the reindeers!"

wait ... _what?_ The last letter he sent her was about Panserbjørne, not reindeer. Elsa raised a questioning eyebrow towards her still sulky sister, a nose away from hers and found herself somewhat confused "Anna, _when_ was the last letter I sent you?" The redhead looked down for a second reflecting, tapping her index finger against her chin and then shrugging her shoulders "two weeks ago, I think. You were telling me how Ryder lost control of the reindeer-"

the rest of the speech evaporated from Elsa's senses in a flash, a full bolt from the blue. _The reindeer?_ The reindeer incident had been over a month ago, and Elsa had written to Anna every day. Or rather, _almost_ ... but she was one hundred percent sure she had sent last Friday's letter. Gale had thought of that. ...had he? Or had the rascal turned the letters elsewhere on purpose? Would he have been able to? ... _ohoh_ , She would knock him around so much that everyone would complain about the lack of wind. She must have frowned at some point, because Anna's hand on her shoulder pulled her away from the murderous thoughts towards the spirit of the wind and his mocking of her. And as a competitive Anna calmed the hot spirits in less than a second "Elsa? Did you write to me?" she asked, tilting her head towards her older sister's lost gaze. The blonde hugged her arms and frowned "I mean ... Gale sent you the letters. I gave them to him ..." unless...

her heart sank. 

Unless someone was intercepting them. But who? Maybe they ended up on some island far from there. Maybe some King would bring them back ...

Or someone was lurking in the shadows without the two sisters knowing.


	5. Chapter 5

"I'll be fine, Gale."

The wind didn't seem convinced at all. Not a little, not even a shred of trust swayed through the leaves of the spirit, not even a minimum of trust in her as he tried to push her to suggest that she go back. She had never felt him so agitated, so anxious for her. But he resisted the gusts by raising his chest to establish some authority. "Hey! He wouldn't have killed me!"

But he had come closer.

The king of the island she was stupidly returning to had come very close to tearing her apart on the spot, leaving her only a carcass that was to be eaten by other animals. But he had refrained from taking her out in that instant, though he had had the opportunity to get close to that distance and kill her without even starting a conversation ... he had limited himself to a cold warning. An aggressive but passive warning. The same kind of cold warning she would have given years ago, locked away in her cold world.

Maybe Honeymaren wasn't entirely wrong ... maybe she was just trying to defend her kingdom as best she could, given the decadence rumored on the island behind Ahtohallan - oh, I won't be able to keep calling her that forever! This place definitely must have a name!

But the spirit of the wind allowed itself to disagree sharply with a more ardent, more insistent gust that briefly brought her back to the waves that bathed the edges of her dress "Oh, stop it! I won't get noticed."

Last time he wasn't even going to get noticed. Yet the rascal had wanted to intervene at all costs and direct him to Iorek for no apparent reason other than for the sake of starting a fight. But now she would make sure Gale didn't intervene, or everything would turn out for the worse again.

The former queen pointed her index finger at the wind accusingly, giving him the most menacing look she was capable of "and don't you dare follow me!" The spirit turned in protest, lifting her hair.

"Don't argue, the last time a disaster happened! Stay here."

she could very well feel Gale shudder to accompany her, to protect her in case of imminent danger… but perhaps Iorek was not as dangerous as the spirit tried to insist. It was worth a try.

•••

She was surprised to remember the road even though it had been almost a month since the last meeting ... and yet she remembered it carefully, every step, every bend, every dip ...

yet that lake. That crystalline and clear lake with cold but clear and elegant waters, not even a little rippled by a breath of wind. She had been sitting there for a while, stretched out in the snow with her legs stretched out beside her, her knees pulled together with one arm lazily relaxed on them and her eyes turned to the sky. Maybe he just took the wrong approach ...

he was still a wild animal, a predator.

Calmly Honeymaren had explained to her that you never look a predator in the eye because the animal will take it as a challenge, and Elsa had looked him straight into those dark eyes. "so what should I do?" She had asked as she carefully tied the shawl around her waist.

"don't turn your back on him, avoid looking him in the eye and if you have to take a step back, don't turn around. Never."

"Because...?"

Northuldra punched her in the hip, raising an eyebrow "wow, you don't know anything about wild animals."

Having grown up in a castle, the only animalistic approach she ever had before the enchanted forest was Agnarr's horse, Aarne. A lively and affectionate horse that always sought affection with that long muzzle of his, and with no middle ground if he wanted to cuddle, cuddles were. There was no excuse he kept ...

But Aarne and Iorek were two completely different things: Aarne radiated joy, serenity. Iorek radiated coldness and anger. and maybe pain?

Seeing your land unravel before your eyes certainly doesn't have to be a cure-all for a good mood.

It didn't take long from his arrival at the entrance of steps softened by the ground but rhythmic and heavy.

Iorek.

She didn't even turn completely, she just had to turn in profile to understand that it was him. He could feel it ... he could clearly feel the negative energy he emanated, the heavy weight on his shoulders and as if he could feel every breath weighing on his ribcage ... in and out, in and out again in a rhythmic, cadenced and stable.

And those footsteps stopped when the bear noticed his presence. He noticed his presence.

He noticed her ...

He noticed her ...

...

ELSA, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?

And believe me when I say that every type of muscle in her body refrained from making sudden movements. She had to stay calm, or the seeming calm she created would be completely wiped out and she could say goodbye to a reconciliation. Yet the hand resting on the ground trembled slightly although it was closed into a fist. Iorek did not move for a full minute, not even the slightest movement to give her a clue as to his intentions in some way ... she only felt him wheezing a few feet away from her, motionless and steady on his big paws.

But he said nothing.

he was simply watching her. Not checking, not aiming like prey

Just looking.

And although those burning black eyes of his pressed against his neck with awareness, the bear did not fill the silence in any way. And before Elsa knew it, the animal was approaching.

He was approaching with heavy steps ... but before approaching he had lowered his head with what had appeared to be his version of a tired sigh, a new tiredness seemed to press on his shoulders as he walked towards the spring of water, slowly but surely . And then he tilted his muzzle dipping it into the clear water to drink without looking at her again, staring only at his own reflection as he lapped her.

"How are you?" Elsa asked instinctively

"why should you care?"

not a brilliant start.

Okay, second try. Go!

The fifth spirit cleared her throat, smoothing her hair clearly uncomfortable with that dry, dry response. "I asked you to be nice."

"then get it over with."

... Damn.

Had she been like that too during those years of confinement? Did she look the same even though she's tough on Anna? In the world? Did she seem so angry too? ... oh no, the anger had increased on the way up the northern mountain. A kind of veiled and subtle anger. This was an irritated, leathery, detached and distant rage.

It is directed towards her like a wave of vibration as if to give her time to feel the build-up fury. "I entered your kingdom without your consent."

"Then why are you here again?"

Elsa opened her mouth, but closed it immediately.

Why was she back? chasing such a stubborn animal ...

"Listen to me please." she found herself saying without sounding (too) pathetic "maybe I can do something for your island

"Forget it."

how had the roles reversed so quickly? Since when had she become the desperate Anna of so many years ago? Chasing something unattainable. But that change in the bear king's voice struck ... that response hadn't been characterized by anger at him.

It was just tiredness.

Tired of so many years spent trying to save the island, his land.

Tired of dealing with this petulant, insistent girl who wouldn't leave him alone. Tired out. Tired just tired.

Elsa clutched her white dress in her cold hands, looking at her own reflection of the water and taking advantage of its clarity to scrutinize the bear's long snout reflected on the surface and the long jagged scars on its nose ... and its blank stare , dull, frowning. He opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again as the bear snorted. "You told me you didn't want me here- '

"Then why did you come back?"

"Why Gale-"

Iorek turned his big head towards her, a questioning look overwhelming the coldness of his dark eyes for a brief moment "who is Gale?" It took Elsa a moment to realize that she probably knew the spirit by another name, perhaps even in a different language. The fifth spirit blinked in the direction of the white bear before giving a concrete answer "Oh! The wind. Or rather ... the spirit of the wind. Nokk brought me here ... the spirit of water .."

He just asked you about Gale, stop rambling.

If Iorek had been bothered by such a stutter, the bear did not show it. He simply stared at her and then turned his nose to the side, inhaling and exhaling rhythmically with a few snarls or snorts or grunts in the background with each intake of oxygen. "Bieg."

"What did you say?"

"His name is Bieg."

Bieg ... that's what they called it, the Panserbjørne. Bieg.

Elsa looked at her hands ... two cultures so different yet so similar. "I've never heard the Northuldra speak this language ..." The bear's response was a snort and he looked away in anger.

The queen dropped her arms to her knees with an almost exasperated blow. "Are you angry with them too? Really?" she exclaimed, though maintaining a sober and unaltered tone as her sister might have done

She wasn't Anna and Anna wasn't her.

But she immediately regretted that peppery tone, because the bear peered at her out of the corner of his eye, stifling a warning growl in her direction as if he wanted to remind her who was in front of her. It wasn't the growl of someone aiming to kill, it was a growl meaning "shut the hell up". And if she could growl, he would have growled right now

The only difference between her and her a few years ago was that anger would now turn into spiky icicles, ice stalactites so spiky they could pierce anything. Yet not a snowflake appeared in the air, not even a crumb of a blizzard wind. Nothing, I look evenly frowning at the bear "listen to me". she said pointing the finger at him, straight at "I didn't get that far for-"

And the wind began to blow on them, just as an argument was about to start, because Iorek had stood up and was looking at her ready to unleash all his fury on her. And the hot spirits ended up being soothed by the arrival of-

"Gale!"

"Bieg?"

the other killer looks at each other.

But the wind was in a hurry and certainly couldn't keep up with useless squabbles between two stubborn beings. Without waiting he lifted them both and without adding any clues, he dragged him away amid countless protests from both.


	6. Chapter 6

A graceful, floating and delicate landing could only be followed by an awkward, heavy and uncoordinated thud of a large body tumbling to the ground, slamming its entire jaw on ground and this was followed by an annoyed grunt and a half-muttering growl. And from these descriptions you can very well understand who had landed and how on the soil of the Northuldra territory. The ethereal Snow Queen intent on brushing her disheveled hair off her face, snorting in the process and almost cursing under her breath.

The Ice King, on the other hand, intent on getting up and looking upwards with a decidedly accusatory way, short and angry breaths sank into his ribcage and then resurfaced and fixed a restless fury in his cold eyes, veiled with anger. But it was the same kind of anger Elsa felt right now ... if she could she could have directly strangled the wind. She turned furiously into the air, ready to name-call with a well-placed finger in preparation and her mouth already open when an even more angry voice preceded her on time. " _Bieg_ , if I catch you you're done." And Iorek looked very much about to perform a sacrilegious act and destroy the harmony of spirits again. The bear was still lying comically on the ground, so that Elsa wondered how she could have been afraid of what looked like a teddy bear rather than a ferocious predator. But laughing in his face would have been rude and foolish, so the fifth spirit adjusted her white silk gown and hid a smirk behind his hand. "do you need help?" The brusque response was not long in coming in an even more swanky tone "I don't _need_ your help." he growled, rising and immediately stabilizing himself on his paws to look around better, snorting and muttering. Elsa raised her hands in surrender, stepping back to give him space "as you want. But don't take it too easy, I have some chores to attend to." Starting with why Gale had dragged them both there. "as if I had _chosen_ to follow you." Iorek smuggled, sparing no shots.

Another low blow, the bear gains ground quickly ... Elsa didn't deign to answer, she flinched to the harsh tone but just cleared her throat "I think Gale brought us back not by chance ..." She said. _Ooor_ the spirit of the wind was playing a little too much of a joker for her liking lately.

Iorek shook a few leaves from his immaculate white coat with a guttural snort, without deigning to answer her. "I'm going back to the camp to see if it's alright there, maybe the Northuldra are in trouble." Elsa pointed her thumb over her shoulder indicating where the forest parted its trees revealing the clearing where some voices came ... some were whispers, others were higher tones. She didn't hear Yelena's tone. "I'm going back to Svalbard." he said resolutely, without even looking into her eyes he retreated backwards and turned at the last, turning away from her and walking towards the bank.

 _Svalbard?_ Was it the name of the island? The Panserbjørn did not go too far, because yet another gust of wind made it stop to avoid being dragged away. Clearly Gale didn't want him to leave, he was clearly trying to buy time. dragging him back to the point where he was before under the gaze of a resigned Elsa who tried to hide a thread of laughter behind her fist with poor results, because the smile reached her eyes and Iorek noticed it, in fact he looked at her grim. Super grim. "I think Gale spoke out." She said shrugging casually "we must stick together." To the great irritation of the Bear King. His austere and courageous face glared at her for a brief, _brief_ but intense moment before the usual inexpressive apathy swooped heavily on his hard features and he let out a loud snort from his nostrils that meant temporary peace. "Fine." The fifth spirit felt his taut shoulders relax as he glanced at the village behind them "don't frighten them, though."Iorek just snorted, took a breath, raised his head royally, and stepped forward. 

* * *

If video cameras had existed in rural Norway in the nineteenth century, there was no doubt that Yelena's reaction to seeing that huge bear advancing relentlessly in her village with the ethereal figure of Iduna's eldest daughter at a safe distance would have been hilarious to observe in hindsight. The chieftain had lost all sorts of color as soon as those ferocious eyes had begun to square everyone without restraint. Helgá, with her attentive gaze and her cerulean eyes, had alerted Yelena of an anomaly nearby and certainly didn't need a shaman to understand that those heavy steps certainly did not belong to a reindeer with its graceful hooves.

That was a patient and rhythmic step, slow but elegant in its turn, and was interspersed with the sounds of soles that hastened to get out of its path. Elsa sent apologetic glances to all those whom the bear frightened with a growl or a sinister look, shrugging and opening her mouth to scold him but to no avail It was only when the fifth spirit was in front of her that Yelena professed a scowl at the young woman, the kind of look a grandmother would give her granddaughter after a prank. The stick she always carried with her slammed to the ground as she hissed through clenched teeth: " _Where have you been?_ "

"I was-" But the other held up a hand. She wasn't done. "you disappear for hours and come back with-with" and gestured to Iorek, who rocked his head back with a frown of indignation. "exactly, who are you supposed to be? And why are you even here?" _Oh thank goodness_ , Elsa thought. The focus had faded from her and shifted to the newcomer who was being subjected to the stern, stern gaze of Yelena and her menacing staff.

A ferocious look returned Yelena. _Oh ... no, thank goodness a damn!_ _Iorek will tear her apart! or maybe Yelena will tear him apart ..._ it depends. An interesting match in any case. The king wrinkled his nose at her, chin very high and from the position of his jaw Elsa clearly understood that he would not answer even dead, and the situation could only get worse from there. "Yelena," she began to calm the waters, putting her hands between them to block any advance. "This is Iorek, the King of the Panserbjørne. He's here because Gale dragged him with me ... what's going on here?" And there the expression of the other changed radically. "Your sister ... sent a letter from Arendelle. There's the military mold on it." Elsa felt her brows intertwine together in a confused expression, her mouth open to form words that would come later. A military mold? Anna had never put any mold on the wax of the letters she sent her ... they were always sealed at the worst just because her little sister knew it was the content that was important. The military mold was not like Anna. it was a clear and round sign of _... War?_

Her heart sank in her chest at a moment when the world seemed to come to a complete stop as Yelena handed her the letter and she opened it with trembling hands. Weselton and his men had landed at Arendelle and cornered the people of Arendelle until their leader received an audience with Elsa herself. An _audience_? What more did he want? Arendelle and Weselton had ceased to be trading allies when Elsa was still in office as queen and that homunculus had struck her as a coward with a capital C ... and had besieged Arendelle. Quickly Elsa trimmed the letter into Yelena's hands and exclaimed "I have to go to Arendelle. Now." and ran past her towards the first trickle of water that happened to her. "the kingdom is under siege, there is not a minute to lose." Sure, leaving without an escort was naïve enough ... but organizing a rescue team would take precious time that she didn't have.

Maybe Anna was already in danger ... maybe Weselton had locked her up in the dungeon. Confused murmurs spread among the Northuldra who magically forgot Iorek's presence and massed around Elsa. "will they come here?"

"are we safe?"

"Of course not! They will come and get us!" But a deeper voice broke the questions "I'm coming with you." And that voice made her turn slowly to see Iorek advancing towards her and although his face had not changed in expression in the slightest Elsa clearly saw that he did not want to hear reasons about it "Iorek, I appreciate the gesture but-" Elsa shrugged. "I don't know what I'll find there ..."

"that's why going alone is foolish." he answered without missing a beat "Come on. Let's go and get my armor."

"Armour?"

" _get moving!_ " and at that roaring, Elsa followed closely, picking up the dress in her hands "okay, okay! here I am!"


	7. Chapter 7

Elsa admitted that she didn't understand many things about Iorek. She didn't understand his ferocious coldness, she didn't understand his way of thinking, she just didn't understand him. Just as now with the sound of her shoes against the marble of Arendelle and the rhythmic grinding of the Bear King's claws against the tiles, Elsa did not understand why she had insisted on coming despite making it clear that she didn't have a shred of sympathy for her that he didn't care about Arendelle.

They had made a brief stop in Svalbard where he had fiercely ordered her to wait for him on the shore and not move from there, and the fifth spirit had not dared to contradict him or give him a hard time, because it would be a waste of time. Precious time that could be used to save Arendelle from the hands of that ridiculous Duke and his hysterical pretensions. Iorek had done as quickly as possible and when he returned he looked like a totally different bear: Yelena had told her that bears made their armor at a young age, at the beginning of maturity as a rite of initiation into adulthood.

The armor was not full of squiggles or similar ornaments, nor was it pretty or perfectly carved with spiral references : it looked as if pieces of celestial iron had been _wedged_ together, and rust had feasted between them for a long time, given the marks between one joint and another. Yet it was on him like a second skin. It seemed part of him, it fit him so perfectly. And as the King advanced towards her Elsa felt a sense of power lighten in the angry aura around him, as if somehow that armor could make that cold soul prouder, less distant. The metal was loud with sharp movement sounds until Elsa and Iorek were face to face. The Nøkk waited patiently, decidedly unfazed by the presence of the King of the _Panserbjørne_ , as if Iorek were simply an old acquaintance he hadn't seen in a while.

He gave him a respectful nod to which the King replied with an impatient snort and addressed Elsa directly. "shall we go or stay here all day?" Gale had thought of transporting Iorek and placing him on the port of Arendelle in a more gentle and polite way, so the King had nothing to say. And now the two were heading for the castle of Arendelle. Walking in silence and at a safe distance just to make it clear that there was no alliance between them: Iorek was just escorting her.

...The streets were so empty.

Elsa had _never_ seen Arendelle so empty and so tense, and this time the potential destruction her powers could wreak had nothing to do with it.

_The cannons aimed at the castle._

_The menacing ships lurking on the fjord..._

People had locked themselves up in the house in the absence of other solutions, in the absence of the joy that Anna was able to bring. A joy that Elsa knew would be an absurd cry once her little sister was in her arms.The doors were open, wide open and awaiting the anxious arrival of the fifth spirit towards her home and Elsa and Iorek stopped in front of them.

The King of the Panserbjørne waved a paw underneath to find relief from the sharp bone scuffing against the marble floor and snorted softly as Elsa watched the front door open. "What is your plan?"

"We wait until the Queen receives us." Elsa was shocked to hear the security in her own voice and how much seemingly lost authority was drawing into a faux facade, painted with felt-tip pen against the background of feigned calm."And why would the Queen receive us out of the blue?" Iorek's tone was flat and deep as always, so Elsa didn't pay too much attention to that remark, answering him with a deep breath and a nibbling of her lower lip "because she's my sister."

Iorek had no brothers or sisters. He had never rushed to help someone like Elsa was doing. He gave her a skeptical look, black lips set in a thin line with a hidden growl as the doors of the castle opened wide, leaving room for a figure already stationed to go in search, bag on one shoulder and a mass of light hair gathered in a bun braiding on the back of the head, the figure had a face full of freckles.

The agitated figure of a woman appeared at the door: she was nibbling her thumbnail, reddened turquoise eyes and cheeks streaked with tears already poured. She seemed not to have seen the two, but Elsa had seen her _clearly_ : the fifth spirit stiffened next to Iorek, shoulders now straight and a twinkle in her eye.

The young woman was far away, but Iorek realized that she must be Elsa's younger sister. They had the same face, it is true, but there was a sense of childish youth and playfulness absent from Elsa's pale skin on the face of the other girl. This woman had a darker, warmer complexion, not as pale as Elsa's but definitely not tanned or olive: two red cheeks, a tiny nose and two eyelashes the same shade as her strawberry blonde hair. The young woman came down the steps, absently looking up in their direction and looking up completely when Elsa called her name: "Anna." with a soft, delicate tone, but that was enough for the girl to raise two very clear and expressive eyes.

" _Elsa ...?_ "

Her voice was hoarse. It was as if she had been crying.

The sight broke Elsa's heart, and at once the Snow Queen opened her arms for her little sister who in the meantime had already let go of a desperate sob and rushed into a race towards the fifth spirit.

Iorek took a few steps back, taken aback by that show of affection between the two and decidedly unwilling to take part in any kind of conversation, merely watching the two sisters hold each other. Elsa stroked Anna's back in circles to calm the sobs that stirred from her throat and her hand traveled over the tawny head, In response the other leaned into Elsa's touch, clinging to her and her dress as if it were her lifeline "y-you're here!" she stammered between sobs. From an outside eye, that frightened human was handling the situation great.

"Of course I'm here." her sister replied calmly, in stark contrast to Anna's devastated tone. _Tsk, Humans and their messy emotions they loved to throw around._

Iorek had felt the desolation on his skin, but _cry_?

he had never seen anyone _cry._

Crying was not a concept he understood, it was not inherent in his nature. He did not understand the usefulness of crying.

Eventually the girl calmed down only after having taken steps to wet her sister's shoulder very well with avalanches of tears poured on it and after having wiped the tears with the palm of her hand and having sniffed in a very inelegant way.

"Weselton-"

"He's still here, I know."

"he requested an audience with you-"

"I read it in the letter."

And only then did she see Iorek. The young woman's face unfolded into an expression of surprise mixed with terror, her mouth opened in a full-throated gasp as she took a few steps backwards, furiously blinking her moistened eyelids and all this without letting go of Elsa's hands, or rather squeezing them more between hers as if to pull her to herself. Seeing her sister's expression, she took a brief look over her shoulder, understanding and immediately turning to her "Anna, Anna-" she said grabbing her shoulders to calm her down "he's on our side."

"Wha-"

Releasing her for a brief moment but still holding her hand, Elsa turned to the King with one hand forward and beckoning him to come closer. Anna tried to free herself, but Elsa tightened her grip to reassure her. "Iorek, come on."

This was greeted with a suspicious look in those intense eyes, but still taking his time the King of the Panserbjørne approached the two sisters stopping a few inches from Anna who was trying to stay as far as possible from his claws and sharp fangs. Elsa waved a hand in introduction to Iorek "Anna; this is Iorek Byrnison. He's the King of Svalbard." Anna's voice was fragile, so fragile that Elsa thought she might pass out in her arms. Her little sister was pale as a rag, her eyes were duller and surrounded by dark circles caused by fatigue. "S-Svalbard?"

"It's the island behind Ahtohallan, little sister." Elsa gently rubbed her shoulders, noticing that she was shaking like a leaf. He wrapped his arm around them, guiding her forward to the white bear. "Iorek, this is my sister Anna. She is the Queen of Arendelle." Iorek gave her a brief nod, Anna returned with a wave of her hand " _h-hello_."

"Greetings."

And then silence.

Elsa didn't speak, Anna didn't open her mouth, Iorek didn't say a word. Elsa made her gaze travel between the two: her sweet and tender face, so flooded with emotions and his hard and austere face, completely devoid of them. That was until it was Anna who broke the ice, sniffling again and giving herself a tone. "let's go inside, it's freezing out here."

Not to mention that she was talking to the Snow Queen and a white bear; two creatures who don't even know what cold _is_. Yet the group started inside the same, Anna in the lead, Elsa behind her and Iorek in the rear of the group.

* * *

The place was tiny for him, for his outdoor living. That place was _really_ small.

How could one fight? How did one run through those corridors? And hunt? What were humans _doing_ here all day? Thank goodness the central area with the staircase was more open and spacious ... but unfortunately it was crowded.

And inadvertently Iorek sighed.

"Iorek, are you all right?"

His eyelids dropped to the umpteenth question from Elsa: the girl just didn't know how to mind her own business.

He pulled his chest out with a breath and muttered an "hmph." to agree. Two men were talking in front of them, and Anna quickly reached the tallest one: he was stout with broad shoulders, a tough and strong physique and features as marked and distinctive as his blond hair was. The second man was more elegant and poised, his black hair was graying and some wrinkles were evident on his forehead and on the sides of his eyes: his hands were fixed behind his back, his posture rigid and concentrated. None of them seemed to have noticed that Anna wasn't alone, but they didn't notice the white bear and Elsa until a little voice giggled and exclaimed a shrill "Hi!"

At first Iorek looked around and saw no one, but then he looked down and...

_and oh blessed spirits, what is this thing?!_

There was not a person in front of him ... but a damned _puppet-like_ anthropomorphic thing watching him with two big, black eyes. And if he leaned out a little further, Iorek could clearly have seen his reflection in those big eyes ...

But at that moment his first instinct was to take a half step back without altering his face in the least. But inside the King of the Panserbjørne he had had to repress the instinct to make his head fly with a blow of his paw. "I'm Olaf, and I love warm hugs!" said the creature, advancing towards him smiling with that single tooth that was found in the mouth and observing the animal.

_Hugs?_

_What was a hug?_

"and you?" he asked "what's your name?" 

"... Iorek."

And the snowman's black eyes lit up "oooh! Your name is ancient, it's beautiful! Did you know that you bears are left-handed? And that you are solitary creatures? And that you don't like physical contact?"

"...good to know."

"Are you Elsa's friend?"

"Olaf, don't bother him." she intervened, trying to push the snowman away from Iorek with gentle hand movements. But Olaf jumped out of her grip back to the bear "but I have so many questions!"

_well ... bizarre, he seemed to know everything._

A thread of awareness made its way into the back of his head as he realized that the other two men had also turned around: the elder widened his eyes and exclaimed: "oh, good gracious!" flying one hand to his chest, while the other's response was a step back and a " _Woah_!" which was very pronounced. The only one who had had a reaction other than panic was Olaf. A demon-possessed snowman.

We're doing great.

Unexpectedly it was Anna who calmed the waters "it's all right, you two." the tone used was more gentle and calming than the trembling one of just before. She pointed at him with one hand "He came with Elsa, he means no harm." _Or so she thought-?_

"He escorted me here. He insisted on accompanying me at all costs."

...Was Elsa defending him?

Well, it seemed so.

The fifth spirit reached her sister beckoning him to approach the rest of the group once more, pushing the two men towards the bear's figure as he approached. "Kristoff, Lieutenant Mattias: This is the King of Svalbard, Iorek Byrnison." a noteworthy introduction. "King Iorek, my brother-in-law and our lieutenant." Mattias bowed briefly "Your majesty." he said, even if a modicum of fear tinged his tone and features.

 _Why does everyone keep bowing?_ "you are not my subjects." said the bear "you must not bow, nor call me King." He hadn't been a king for a long time.

He hadn't been, and he probably would never have been a full-blown king. There were too many gaps, too many difficulties.

He was not worthy of this title.

Embarrassed, Mattias rose to Elsa with a confused look that she returned with an apologetic smile.

That bear was really a tough skin.

Concept that Olaf didn't seem to have fully learned as his little hands reached out to grab his muzzle and pull him down to his heighti. "it's so soft! Uh, you'd be cuter without these scars! They disfigure your face ..." In the hands of a being (probably possessed) in a land that was not his.

Holy spirits.

Iorek let his gaze wander with bewilderment he didn't know he possessed as he watched Olaf pressing his cold cheek against his muzzle caressing his scars with his wooden hand. "oh, come here! Warm hugs always heal everything!"

_Nope. Nope nope nope nope. **Nope!**_

"I've never received a hug, nor do I know what is-"

And he couldn't even finish the sentence because the snowman had already wrapped him in his arms "okay! Here you go!"

"uh? what are you-" 

_..._

_Oh._

So _this_ was a hug?

It ...wasn't that bad after all...

Olaf smelled of snow, of cold ... his cold, the cold of his island. For a moment he felt himself melt inside the embrace, and that was what confused him.

Was he softening?

_...No._

**_No._ **

_Don't you **dare** let anyone in. Don't you **dare** let your guard down._

_**Conceal, don't feel.** _

_**Conceal, don't feel.** _

He broke away with a slight movement of his head, pulling away from Olaf and looking away for a brief moment. "There ya go!" Olaf gave him another pat on the muzzle gently "better? Do your scars still hurt?"

"They... don't."

The scars hadn't hurt for years now.

Maybe part of him just wanted to be hugged? But had his rational pride got in the way?

Who knows.

Olaf didn't seem to take it badly, on the contrary he started giggling at him about things from the series: "he's adorable." Quite a bizarre interaction.

But not as bizarre as Kristoff's reaction, who was staring at him with his mouth wide open. Anna could see right away that she was thinking about how well this creature could pull a sled. There was no doubt. But when the bear and the mountaineer looked at each other, they only nodded at each other: from one solitary creature to another.

In the meantime Elsa was guided to the audience with the duke, leaving the room unnoticed by slipping silently into one of the corridors.

And silence fell when they realized that the Snow Queen had already started.

Anna bit her fingernail "what now?"

"... now we wait."


	8. Chapter 8

Elsa had entered with already square shoulders, raising her chest proudly and firmly clenching her lips in a firm, pink and thin line charged with contempt towards the figure turned towards the window, The duke was contemplating the fjord with his hands behind his back as if Arendelle belonged to him. As if he had been made regent. The Snow Queen felt her blood boil.

What sane King or Queen would appoint this hysterical and pretentious dullard to be the ruler of any kingdom? The kingdom in question would have plunged into chaos after a week of rule, no doubt. A long breath so as not to freeze him in place, and Elsa closed the door with a quick and angry flick of the wrist and it slammed against the hinges so hard that the Duke gave a start and turned like a hamster in the corner: hard on his purely aesthetic army, and on his belief that he was in charge. Instead he was a powerless, deluded and unscrupulous homunculus who would never get anywhere. The snow queen gave a side smile in the face of such cowardice, but quickly evaporated into fury when the duke turned to her full with mock cordiality, pointing to a chair "Well well, if it isn't Elsa."

"Dare not call me by name. It is Lady to you, Duke of Weselton." she spat without even letting him finish, fists collected in pure anger. That feigned courtesy was of no use to her, so she would have counterattacked without mercy. The Duke's eyebrows rose and fell as if he were considering, he adjusted his jacket and advanced towards her. "I were you I wouldn't use this tone. I come here in peace."

"Oh really? Well, odd, the ships ready to attack on the fjord say otherwise." she growled, controlling her posture more in contained fury. "You misunderstood me, Milady. Boats are only in the form of dignity."

Dignity? Him who had been screaming for twenty minutes after the guards escorted him back to his ship? He who had feigned illness by saying he was traumatized?

He? Dignity? Oh, please. Elsa did not believe it for a moment, the devious hapless. The former queen of Arendelle crossed her arms over her chest, one eyebrow lowered and her tongue clamped between her teeth to keep from answering. It would have been precious breath "then state your intentions before I change my mind."

One side of Weselton's lips twitched up "You're very combative today, I see."

"Don't make me count to three."

"very well." he said, moving back towards the window "sit down."

... oh, that was the pinnacle. If that heavy-handed duke thought he could give her orders in her own kingdom and get away with it, he was very wrong. She stubbornly positioned her jaw to let him know who was in charge, standing still as a pillar of salt and watching him.Weselton had not heard the sound of the chair shifting and was watching it out of the corner of his eye with hurried bail. "Sit down, i said."

"You will not give me orders, not in my own home." her tone was low and dangerous. How can you argue with a woman who can turn you into a popsicle in seconds? Elsa was irremovable, firm with her lips tightened and tightened in a severe grip. A determined frown rose over her features. "What you have to do right now is to stay calm, or my troops will destroy Arendelle."

... what choice did she have?

With all the dignity he possessed in his body, he slowly settled back into his chair, hands well placed on his legs and back straight, blue eyes fixed on the homunculus as if they wanted to strike him on the spot.

Weselton spoke again, so full of himself. "The Northuldra territory is rich, prosperous. It contains riches that we can only dream of." Elsa felt her chest flush with rage, relentless rage. What did she want with them? With the earth of her mother? "So?" 

"What it will do is detain the people while we plunder the area." But at those words, Elsa got up again with a disturbing slowness, her eyes sent lightning and lightning, thunderbolts and storms all together towards him, now overhanging him in height by a few centimeters. "And you better not bring her friend Panserbjørne, or Arendelle and her sister will suffer an unkind end." Elsa had to refrain from closing her hands around his neck and squeezing, her dignity and composure slowly slipping away from her face with all the anger she hadn't unleashed on him when she was still queen years ago. But she was always a lady, so she eyed him and calmly looked at the fury in quiet, cold and punctuated words. 

"You will not touch Northuldra territory. Not even with an arrow ... Over my dead body." she growled, straight over Weselton's hooked nose and badly cut mustache, he could already feel the cold advance in the room as the anger rose.

And they should also have passed over Anna's dead body, knowing her.

Their half Northuldra was proud to be such, and for nothing in the world would they betray the people of Iduna. Never. And if Weselton decided to attack, Arendelle's army would fight back with all the ferocity they were capable of. You want war? Well, war be it. "Those possessions are of their land, therefore their right! You in Weselton are doing very well, so go back there and never come back!" And unexpectedly, Weselton himself spoke calmly without losing whatever composure he must have acquired over the years. "Until proven otherwise, the Enchanted Forest is not territory belonging to Arendelle."

"We are twinned with the enchanted forest, my mother was a Northuldra."

"but it remains a land without masters. 

Elsa slammed a hand hard on the table, her hair flew over her shoulder in the movement "Are you hard of hearing or what?!" she exclaimed "Nobody can ever conquer the Enchanted Forest! They belong to themselves and nobody else!" They belonged to the forest, to spirits ... but not to some stupid pretentious duke who couldn't see beyond his nose. Weselton didn't move an inch. "Those savages could be brought into civilization, and educated properly. It would bring great glory to Arendelle and Weselton." A jet of fiery red flared into Elsa's pale cheeks, the hand still on the table began to release a state of frost that went over the shiny and bright surface of it. "I'm not going to bargain with anyone who doesn't understand what freedom is." she growled, leaning threateningly towards Weselton. "I advise you to leave and take your troops with you. And if you let me see you again, I won't guarantee you a luxury treatment. "

He was watching her over the round glasses. And then the duke stood up. "You won't have the last word. Those territories will be mine, and if you get in I'll kill you, you witch. I'll be back in two weeks, don't sing victory." That term again.

Witch. When he was the one who wanted to conquer territory that didn't belong to him ... as soon as Weselton was out of sight, Elsa felt exhausted. She stood at the table and slowly slumped into the chair, her head falling back on the back. From the corridor was the sound of a roar and a scream, and the sound of shoes running away to snatch a little tired laugh. 

* * *

It had certainly been a special day, in every sense, Iorek thought as the two sisters conversed a few meters from him. The white bear had sat in the common room waiting for the verdict, and after the duke (a thin, unpleasant-looking man) walked out at a brisk pace, Iorek had seen fit to give him another heart attack by roaring at him. Her scream as she ran away was priceless ... but Elsa was shaken, she was white as a rag and anger was still evident on her face. 

Her younger sister and she immediately started talking, agreeing that they would discuss it better in the morning and that it was time to sleep. "Gerda, can you take my sister to the bedroom please? keep her warm. "Anna said kindly to a woman with very little delicate features but kind, warm and welcoming eyes. Immediately she put a hand on Elsa's shoulder, who briefly looked over it to cast a glance at Iorek.

The Snow Queen disappeared up the stairs after a resounding yawn, reciprocated by those present in the room. Kristoff himself stretched her sturdy muscles, rolling his shoulders and neck "yeah, I think I'll go to bed too ..." he patted Olaf's head and then looked at Iorek again. They had barely exchanged a word during the time they were waiting for Elsa; Kristoff, under that gaze, scratched his neck "Uh- well ... nice to have met you, Iorek." he said, and then started up the stairs. "bye bye, Iorek!" Olaf exclaimed instead, giving him an affectionate pat on the muzzle, to wich the best grimaced, trying to pull away with a grunt. "Oh, that sweetie! He looks like a teddy bear!" and having said this he followed Kristoff, giggling. A Panserbjørne doesn't feel fatigue easily, and Iorek wasn't all that sleepy right now. Therefore, returning to Svalbard to reassure the bears of his return would have been ideal. He got up and started walking to the door they had entered hours before, heavy footsteps and snorting breaths. Almost near the door, almost-

That was until a crystalline voice called him back "Uhm- King Iorek-!"

Never a moment of peace. The Bear King sighed softly, rolling his pupils slightly, invoking what little patience he had left before he turned to see the young queen advance towards him with a graceful step. Anna gently rubbed her arm before regaining her posture and looking him in the eye.

"Well?"

The Queen took a breath "I ... uh ... you accompanied my sister here safe and sound." she said softly, then she took the edges of her dress and made a respectful curtsy towards him. "thank you, I am indebted to you." The King shook his head "You are not. I just accompanied her here." he answered, giving her a distant and cold nod anyway. Without saying anything else he turned to the door, ready to leave.

"The sea is dark and the night is cold!" Anna said again, following him with her eyes and leaning towards him.

"I've faced colder nights."

"It's my way to repay you, King Iorek. Stay here for tonight, the journey can be tough now." there was a sober, cautious and kind way in that young that made him understand that Elsa's younger sister was certainly a good sovereign. The white bear eyed the young queen for a moment. "obviously you don't have to stay inside the castle if you don't want to, you can also sleep outside. But stay, just for one night." He was cold, distant. But he certainly wasn't rude, especially towards a formal invitation from a queen. He nodded with a snort, hinted a "thank you, Your Majesty." and walked out, still seeing Anna's gentle smile. He would sleep on the palace stairs to guard, but lulled by the breeze and the sound of the night, watching the dim light of the moon blinded by the Northern Lights until his eyes closed.

He fell asleep after midnight, head on paws and bright lights shining onto him softly, like a gentle kiss.


	9. Chapter 9

Someone was ... singing.

A particular voice, slightly raspy, nasal but feminine, cautious, gentle. It blended perfectly with the surrounding sounds of nature, but at the same time with the early morning silence above it, lightening in the air of the sky south of Svalbard. Far south of Svalbard. The warmth of sleep made It take a moment for his senses to register where he was; not on the soft ground of Svalbard with his bears, but on a rough stairway with the scent of humans allegiating around the air. And almost if not a few steps away from the point on the stairs where the Panserbjørne had dozed off, the fifth spirit was singing. Iorek didn't like singing or similar art forms, he found them unnecessary waste of time ... although as a cub he loved hearing his mother's voice as she hummed softly. But that cynical heart that was found in his chest beat a little harder, more passionately and with a youthful touch at recognizing the melody that Elsa's voice was singing absently while she believed that Iorek was asleep. 

It started with a wordless humming tune that was enough to make him wince slightly from sleep with a frown, mouth shut by whoever was next to him ... but that voice crept into his sleeping head and for a brief moment he felt like he was a cub in the den again, huddled against his mother as a sweet melody filled the cave walls from her chest. And an Iorek who was just a ball of fluffy white fur at the time snuggled up against her taking refuge in her warmth and falling asleep blissfully as the notes of the song hit halfway. But that wasn't his mother's voice, and he wasn't a cub anymore, and this wasn't Svalbard. But the song was still the same. 

" _Where the North wind meets the sea, there's a River full of memory .... sleep my darling, safe and sound, for in this river all is found_." When awake, fully awake, he would roll his eyes or walk away. But now, in the warmth of sleep, his childhood lullaby lulled him to a quiet, tender and peaceful awakening. " _Where the northwind meets the sea, there's a mother full of memory ..._ "

And Iorek opened his eyes; Mother's memories of him clouded his sight with a tenderness he thought he had lost.

A Panserbjørne remembers. Iorek remembered when he first came out of the den, his first steps in deep snow, when he saw his father for the first time, his first lonely hunt, his first fight of him.

But that melody burned into his memory like a relic to be born with, as if ever since he came into the world he had known this lullaby of his ancestors before him before his mother's mouth could sing the first verse. And although part of his head, the more stubborn part, yelled at him to pretend to sleep and wait for the song to end, the sleep-dominated part led him to combine his low, raspy voice with Elsa's in the last verses.

" _Come my darling, honeward bound ... when all is lost-"_ But the fifth spirit's voice stopped as the bear's voice mingled with hers and was cut off very abruptly as Iorek softly recited the last part in a monotonous murmur. But if his face showed no emotion, his eyes spoke clearly about what he felt. " _Then all is found_." 

Elsa was combing her hair while she was singing, sitting on the steps far enough away from Iorek, but the brush had remained motionless in her hand and now she was looking at him in amazement. Iorek kept his eyes open, but his head was not raised; It was still leaning on his great paws, his gaze fixed on the closed doors of the castle before them. He kept his eyelids half closed in a relaxed manner, for once there was not a furious and suspicious frown to touch his hard traits. Evidently he felt Elsa's gaze, because with a snort he turned slightly to observe her with those eyes, for the first time, which appeared so calm.

And from there followed one of the umpteenth moments of silence in which a falling pin could have been heard perfectly. "you know the lullaby." she observed, delicately folding her hands delicately on her legs and observing the bear, but without looking him in the eye as Honeymaren had said. Iorek's response was simply to nod. And it was as if for him the conversation had ended there; he was definitely a bear of few words, but at least having a conversation after a question was not difficult for him. "my mother used to sing it to me." Just like Iduna did when she and Anna were little ... she held them close, Elsa snuggled against her mother's soft chest and closed her eyes as her hand gently stroked her hair. Iduna had had an angelic voice, soft, sweet and delicate ... It had been enough, from the first time, to make Elsa and Anna fall asleep in less than two minutes.

Who knows if Iorek's mother's voice had been just as sweet and maternal ... But from the flash of nostalgia that crossed his eyes, she knew that the she-bear who had raised him had loved him more than anything else and he had loved his mother more than anything else.

"don't make that face." Elsa blinked at him "What face?" And Iorek turned, eyeing her for a moment and then looking forward again. Elsa ran her hand through a lock of hair "uh- just ... I thought you hated Ahtohallan-"

"I only know the lullaby, that's that." he cut it short, without giving rope to the speech as usual and simply plunging back into his majestic silence, that silence that characterized him. Having said that he got up and started walking down the steps, at which Elsa asked him "where are you going?" Had he been human, Iorek would have let out an annoyed sigh. But voicing the annoyance wasn't like him, so he just stepped forward. "I'm going back to Svalbard." he replied "The bears will start to worry if I don't come back."

"Nokk has already warned them of your delay, they say you're safe." _... and since when is Nokk the messenger?_ he thought, but he bit his tongue and just snorted. Elsa crossed her arms, leaning on a column and looking at him. "I came here to tell you that we have a little trip to do, you and me." she told him nonchalantly and with a certain impertinence. 

Another.

Oh, holy spirits. Iorek gave her a cold look over his shoulder "and where?" "The trolls want to see both of us." The trolls? The same creatures that had been described to him as swashbuckling and crafty deceivers who steal your memories and memory and keep your life energy?Among the Panserbjørne, trolls were used as a threat to cubs who weren't being good, and Iorek himself had been subjected to this kind of threat. "Be good or I'll call the trolls!" At the mention of them an involuntary shiver went through his back under his thick white fur. "Kristoff said so."

"Why should Kristoff have direct contact with the trolls? asked Iorek, question to which the girl twisted her mouth as if she were thinking." Uh.. the Trolls are his family."

"His family?"

"Kristoff was an orphan, and they adopted him. That's all." Elsa said, shrugging "you know what? they are honorable creatures, you don't have to fear them." Elsa's tone was more sympathetic, almost condescending as she approached cautiously, rising from the steps and moving slowly up to her side. Iorek looked away, moving slightly. "They are thieves. " Elsa blinked "Thieves?" she asked, startled and perhaps a little amused. "who told you they are thieves?" "legends." he said firmly. "They alter your memory, exhaust your life and keep it to themselves. You can't trust trolls, that's what the myths say." A small smile crossed the young woman's face, an eyebrow lifted upwards. "they're waiting for us now ... we should start getting started." Iorek immediately snorted at those words. 

* * *

The land was called "valley of living rocks" but there was little alive there, if not the little geisers who every now and then sent jets of hot water then changed into steam that spread through the air. The atmosphere was breathable, but Arendelle Castle looked so small from up there, so Iorek assumed they must be quite high up. But now the only thing in sight was a hollow plain, enveloped by the hot vapors that tempered the very cold climate. From an outside eye, in that clearing cleared by the daylight, Elsa looked like an ancient spirit with her long white dress floating behind her and her hair waved in a light breeze as Iorek watched the surroundings skeptically.

Where were the trolls? 

With a light movement of her hand, Elsa pulled her hair off her forehead and put it behind one ear. She was standing in the middle of the clearing, exactly in the center, and she looked around her before looking over her shoulder again at Iorek. "Come on, what are you waiting for?" for someone to show up, maybe? But the king stepped forward all the same to the middle of the clearing, his steps being the only sound defined in that silence above the earth and the moss with some rocks. And then the ground shook and the rocks broke off the edges, coming around them. Elsa didn't move, Iorek didn't blink. But inside, as soon as he saw those creatures appear before them, he felt like taking a step back for a brief moment before the usual courage as his default personality setting swooped into him.

The trolls were quite different from how his mother had described them; she had described them as creatures with sharp fangs and evil little eyes, long claws and snappy movements… she had in fact described them in all respects as malicious little thieves. But these did not appear to be deceivers or thieves; they were short, small, made of stone and had two big sincere black eyes that now looked at Elsa with great affection "oh my dear!" said a female troll, towards which Elsa knelt to hold her stone hands between hers with her sweetness. "good to see you!" Elsa smiled blissfully "Hi, Bulda, Cliff." Some gathered around Elsa, others instead began to observe Iorek with curiosity to which Panserbjørne did not even react, did not even deign to look at them. "I heard that things are not going well in Arendelle ... Anna was here just the other day." said the female troll, Elsa nodded softly in an almost imperceptible way. "oh, that duke is really hateful!" They all agreed on that, even when the ground finally shook again and the infamous Pabbie made his way through the throng of trolls to them.

He was different from the others; he looked more majestic, in a way. Iorek immediately understood that it was the chieftain, the king, the authority of that minority people. From his position, he was certainly respected even by Elsa who smiled politely at Bulda to greet Pabbie in an appropriate way. "Pabbie. You asked to see us, right?" The troll nodded soberly, observing them both with a calm, calm, ancient gaze. How old was that thing, exactly? "And you both came. Nice to see you again, fifth spirit." and then he looked at the bear, who in turn was watching him.

And it was at that moment that two different types of leaders collided in a positive way, two completely opposite types of kings. Iorek held his chin up, his brown eyes and small and suspicious looking at the troll with stiff posture, set to intimidate. Pabbie looked at him peacefully, he didn't smile, not even for a moment. His posture was skilful, relaxed in some way, never aggressive or tense. "And we welcome you, Iorek Byrnison, King and ruler of Svalbard." He was taken aback for a moment. "how do you know my name?" he asked him.

"You appeared to me in a vision, your majesty. I already knew when you would come, and I hoped as soon as possible for your good." replied the troll, with a calm that for a moment would have seemed chilling. Iorek frowned at the old troll. "Why should I have come for my own good?" he said "I'm here because Bieg brought me here with Elsa, I don't belong here or Arendelle." He belonged to Svalbard, to its people, to its vanished ice. Not in Ahtohallan, not in Arendelle.

But Pabbie didn't get impatient, he let him finish and then started talking. " _Bieg,_ or Gale as Elsa knows him, He's a spirit. He sensed something wrong with you and warned me through the dream." Iorek felt outraged, furious, even curious at this point. He took a deep breath "and let's hear; would Bieg have brought me here for this yesterday, with Elsa?"

"correct. You appeared to me in sleep, and I knew immediately that a strange curse resides in you." he explained "and now that I'm close to you I feel this wave of dark magic even stronger, King Iorek." But the King snorted coldly. "Nonsense. I'm fine." 

"Let me check." And before Iorek could argue and express his displeasure about it, Pabbie's tough hand was already traveling from her throat to her chest, running down the white fur with a light but irritating touch Iorek wanted to rebel against. Bite, growl a warning. Yet he remained motionless as Pabbie's hand made contact with his chest, the precise part of it where his heart resided. And Iorek froze automatically. He froze in every action of rebellion attempted in a roar, a snort, a growl. And the King fell into silence, a still silence in which he observed only what Pabbie was doing. Elsa, beside him, held her breath as she observed the situation in confusion. She was still on her knees and it was Bulda who was keeping her calm. She looked at Iorek questioningly, but the bear couldn't answer.

Pabbie had closed his eyes with concentration, murmuring ancient songs, formulas in a language Iorek did not know and soft whispers. When he removed his hands, Iorek felt the anger fall on him like a safe thrown from above on his shoulders, on his head. "King Iorek. You have ice in your heart." and the grave way in which he said it left no doubt, it was not a metaphor. Iorek blinked "what ..?" he asked him.

Pabbie nodded "It's ice. It's right there." Beside him, Elsa visibly paled. Those present feared that she might faint for a thousandth of a second "did I put it there?" she asked in a faint voice "Pabbie, was it me? Did I freeze Iorek's heart?" Iorek was amazed for a moment at how heartbroken, panicked she looked and how she looked at him with big, frightened eyes and how she looked at Pabbie again. She was pale as a rag. "No." sentenced the troll. The young woman took a shaky breath, her hands were shaking uncontrollably and tears were forming in her eyes.

Bulda tried to calm her down."It is not your magic. This type of magic is dictated by the hatred that King Iorek feels towards the spirits, the bitterness towards Ahtohallan and the sadness for his people and his island, but above all the anger towards himself himself. All of that gathered in his heart, and ice began to form there.There is a lot of ice, a lot of hate and pain. And it's altering your view of the world." And now a kind of shock settled in.

Iorek looked at the ground, opening his mouth and closing it to let in some air before speaking. "try to remove it, then." he said, trying not to make his voice tremble. Pabbie lowered his ears "I can try, but it will not remove. It is set up to the roots and removing it would cause you too much pain, too much suffering." But Iorek shook his head, "try it anyway." he clenched her lips and eyes firmly, frowning without even looking at the troll. "Just try."

"Dear Iorek-"

"No fuss. Just go." Hesitantly, Pabbie nodded. The leader of the trolls looked at him with compassion; A soul so lost in anger and contempt for himself and the world. But he realized that Iorek wouldn't do anything with that compassion...Again those hands landed on his heart, on that slow but steady beat. The king did not look, did not see the troll's face frowning as he tried to clear the ice. He felt only the air next to him and tried to try to perceive only that, along with the looks of him on him. And then he found himself opening his eyes wide in surprise, all the air in his lungs completely thrown out of them.

The pain that followed had _nothing_ to do with battle wounds, _nothing_ to do with bruises after a fight. The pain that gripped him as soon as Pabbie focused was beyond any pain he had ever felt, it was completely on another level.On a scale of one to ten, a solid twelve. And it wasn't gradual.

It was as if a hand had broken through his chest and was gripping his heart, trying to pull him away from all the joints attached to it, all the arteries, all the veins. Every fiber of his body was in the grip of absolute pain, that pain that clouds your brain, that makes you sweat cold. Iorek had never experienced such pain. The first reaction was to try to counter that pain, but slowly Iorek realized how much it hurt as Pabbie tried a little harder to pull the ice off. It was so intense that the mighty King of the Panserbjørne had to cling to the ground with his claws, in the grip of the most excruciating pain. He lowered his head, clenching his teeth and not opening his mouth even for a moment. If he opened his mouth, only agony would come out of it. For a moment he felt it: he felt something cold gripping his heart, the main part of his body and what kept him alive with the beating of blood every day ... and that organ had been covered with that cold sensation around to it that only now, mixed with the pain of pulling, was intense.

It was Pabbie who realized how much he was suffering, and when he took his hands off Iorek felt ... empty. He staggered for a moment, his head following the downward motion his body had decided to undertake by crashing to the ground. But he managed to recover at the last minute and regain his balance. "Come on, good. Deep breaths. You had more stamina than others, you did well." Pabbie said softly, trying to calm him down. Iorek didn't even answer him. Trying to recover now was more important, he slowly let go of the ground nestled between his claws and opened his eyes very softly and then he hesitantly straightened up, eyes swinging between Pabbie and his own chest "...It hurt." 

He was emptied of all energy, of all strength. Only Ahtohallan knows how he managed not to collapse to the ground after that, how he continued to stand on his own paws, how he managed to get the air into his lungs. He was trembling. He had _never_ shivered in his life. Yet now even the air that came in and out of his mouth in puffs was shaking.

And Pabbie watched him as labored breaths made their way through his lungs and Iorek tried to stabilize his heartbeat. The troll looked distraught "Iorek, you must let go of your hatred. Or you will be consumed by it through the ice in your heart ..."

"Consumed?" whispered Elsa "in the sense that he'll freeze as Anna did...?" For his part, Iorek did not seem shocked or heartbroken, he looked down with a resigned look in his distant gaze. But again, reading the King of Svalbard was a challenge with a capital letter. He was not a condescending creature. "No, he wouldn't die of it." said Pabbie. "but he would suffer from it until his heart becomes completely frozen, and therefore he'd be no longer able to feel emotions." Elsa sighed in relief and Iorek looked up at Pabbie, dark eyes completely devoid of emotion in appearance. "So what can I do?"

"Trust."

"Trust what? "

Pabbie shook his head, and then put his hand on Iorek's heart again, this time with more gentleness, delicacy and no pang appeared. No pain shook him, no jaw clenched. "just trust, the rest will be natural."


End file.
